BRIANWeston picked the place: a courtyard behind a closed gallery, six chairs and a dead fountain, a lantern over the door. He asked me to come alone. I told him that wasn't possible.Ace stayed by the archway, thirty feet away, hands folded in front of him. He had agreed to it in one word and hadn't looked at me since.I told myself thirty feet was fine. It was better than the alternative: Ace talking me out of seeing Weston at all, because he was jealous of every hour I'd once spent with him. I'd had to practically coax him into accepting it, promising this was where everything ended. Besides, Weston had only said "let's meet." He never called it a date, and I wasn't going to treat it as one, or my jealous boyfriend would flare up again.Weston was already sitting on the fountain's edge with his jacket off. A glass of something amber sat beside him, untouched, and he'd loosened his tie like a man who'd been staring at the same wall for hours."You came," he said."You asked." I sat
Última actualización : 2026-10-14
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